


cloudburst

by pinkwinwin



Category: NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Engagement, Falling In Love, M/M, Magical Realism, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 06:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20385202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwinwin/pseuds/pinkwinwin
Summary: What Jaehyun knows is this—When Seokmin cries, it rains.





	cloudburst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovefoolthatsme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefoolthatsme/gifts).

> cloudburst — _(noun)_ _a sudden, heavy rainfall_
> 
> For Almay, I hope you have the happiest of birthdays
> 
> #

There are a dozen or more things that Jaehyun thinks could summarize up his life well, but he thinks his favorite is the smell after it rains.

Petrichor, they call it. Rain on dry soil. Something interacting with an element of nature and changing it to something new. He likes that concept, and he likes the smell— it’s the kind that gets all up in your senses and doesn’t leave. The kind that hangs onto your clothes long after you walk back into your home.

Three weeks after his promotion, it rains.

Jaehyun thinks of this as he rushes through the streets, fumblings through bodies on the sidewalk in efforts to make it to work in time. The tie around his neck flaps in the wind as he runs, his open suit jacket nearly sliding off one shoulder as he runs. He passes by the coffee shop that sits nestled right next to his office building, and sees a handsome man seated at the counter.

He sees him for only an instant, but the man glances up at him anyways—and with a soft smile, a blink of an eye, the rain stops.

Jaehyun can smell petrichor even after he walks into the building and presses the elevator button to the fifteenth floor.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The man is the same age as him; he finds this out two months after meeting him. 

Jaehyun stands with his feet heavy in his loafers as he stands in the cafe. The man is angled slightly over the counter so he can hear Jaehyun’s order. His hair is messy and brown and reminds Jaehyun of the mountain range he used to visit with his father when he was a boy. There’s a song smooth and warm over the speakers, an acoustic guitar strumming. Jaehyun glances at the man and decides it suits him.

“What will you have?” the man asks.

“What’s your name?” Jaehyun asks instead, and he doesn’t miss it when the man’s eyes squint with laughter, the kind that pulls his mouth into a wide grin.

“Seokmin.”

  
  
The row of flowerpots lining the windowsill seems to hold a dozen flowers that bend towards them in interest. Jaehyun wonders if it’s a trick of the eye, so he blinks a handful of times. The flowers still move. Seokmin seems unphased, and so Jaehyun determines he’ll be unphased as well. 

Jaehyun rolls the name around in his head. Tastes and feels it in his mouth a couple of times, and then looks at the man again.

He decides it suits him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jaehyun wears the same tie, nearly always.

It’s navy and slightly scratchy fabric and it suits him well, he thinks. And now it sits flushed against his body as he enters the cafe again, this time the sun is down and the streets are buzzing with life.

“Are you ready?” Jaehyun asks almost shyly. 

Seokmin smiles at him and slips off his apron, tucking it somewhere behind the counter before grabbing his jacket on the hook by the door.

“Of course.”

  
  
They step outside, and are immediately hit with a strong breeze. It tousles Jaehyun’s hair, and he swears internally at his first-date look that’s quickly getting messed up. Worse, his tie begins to flutter in the breeze, twisting away from his body. Seokmin merely laughs at this, reaching out to grip the tie between nimble fingers.

“What’s this?” Seokmin asks, as the breeze around them begins to subside. Jaehyun glances down at Seokmin thumbing over the embroidered flower on the underside of his tie. The white and pink flower looks back at them from its place stitched in the fabric. 

“Almond Blossom,” Jaehyun answers, feeling suddenly breathless. There’s a slight rustling and he looks up, making eye contact with Seokmin. There are tiny flowers falling from the tree above them and landing perfectly in Seokmin’s hair. He smiles at Jaehyun, reaching up with his free hand to pluck the same flower out of Jaehyun’s own hair.

“My favorite,” Seokmin answers, his voice beautiful and melodic. He holds out the Almond Blossom perfectly between his fingers, glancing at it before looking at Jaehyun with a smile. “How did you know?” 

He didn’t, but he can’t help but smile.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Is it ever hard?”

  
  
Seokmin blinks at Jaehyun’s question. “What do you mean?”

  
  
They’re sitting in Seokmin’s kitchen, a cup of coffee in each of their hands. Seokmin leans against the counter and tilts his head, looking at Jaehyun.

  
  
“You know—” Jaehyun begins, but falls short when a ray of sunlight infiltrates his eyes and makes him squint. He can just barely make out the vision of Seokmin frowning, glancing out the window. In an instant a cloud rolls over the sun, breaking the light. 

  
  
“Sorry,” Seokmin answers sheepishly.

  
  
Jaehyun places his mug on the table, running his finger around the rim. “ _ That. _ Is it hard to do that?”

Seokmin thinks for a second, tapping his chin with his finger. He glances at his plants on the windowsill above the kitchen sink and waggles his fingers towards them. They bend and move towards his hand like he was calling them.

“Not at all,” Seokmin answers, his voice melodic. Jaehyun looks at him for a moment, nothing but fondness in his eyes. 

And he asks him to tell him everything. And Seokmin does.

He can control the weather, the plants at his feet, even the animals that litter the meadow outside his house. He’s had it his whole life. It doesn’t make him immortal, merely a human with an extraordinary gift. A flash of greatness in what would normally be a mundane existence, he says. 

Jaehyun thinks nothing about Seokmin could ever be mundane. And he decides to spend the rest of his life trying to prove that. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


What Jaehyun knows is this—

  
  
When Seokmin cries, it rains. 

He remembers this after their first fight, when Seokmin sat on his porch and cried and Jaehyun lay in his bed, searching for answers on how to respond. It came in the form of sheets, the rain pelting against the window in an instant that ripped Jaehyun from between the bedcovers. He scrambled, barefoot and hair a mess, across the wood-paneled hallways until he got to the door, ripping it open and having it bang against the sidling with the pressure from the wind.

  
  
He remembered Seokmin looking up at him then, eyes blurred with tears and mouth in a sharp line. The lightning cracked then, like a blade against the sky. It made Jaehyun’s heart sink to his feet, and his hands find Seokmin’s face as he wiped away his tears.

It wasn’t until Seokmin’s arms wrapped around his waist and his nose rubbed against the cotton of his t-shirt that the rain subsided and the clouds cleared—until there was merely a drizzle, until there was merely nothing at all to point to any sign of a storm.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


No, reverse— play. What Jaehyun knows is  _ this _ —

The first time Jaehyun kissed Seokmin was at a picnic in the city gardens. He leaned in, palm scraping against the cheap fabric of the gingham below him, and their lips connected. It was like sunlight on his skin, like the song of a gentle Nightingale, and when Seokmin pulled away a few moments later he wore a smile Jaehyun could write poems about.

  
  
Seokmin let his back fall into the grass surrounding them, the greenery a lush pillow. There are flowers that spring out of the ground in an instant, growing and bending to meet him in a gentle whisper. Birds start singing and the sun feels warmer and Jaehyun knows that this is no coincidence.

This is all Seokmin. Every act, every inch. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The first time Jaehyun told Seokmin he loved him, it was at night. 

They were holed up in some cafe, the snow falling outside serving only as a reminder of how bitterly cold their trek back to the car would be. The lull of the cafe ambiance inject a sense of bravery into him, and he leaned over the table and gripped Seokmin’s hands in his own. He waited until they locked eyes before the words fell off his lips, and he watched the smile bloom on Seokmin’s face.

“I love you, too,” Seokmin whispers through tears, leaning in to kiss him. Jaehyun slips his eyes closed, which is why he doesn’t notice until he pulls away that the snow has stopped, and the moon is shining over downtown.   
  


  
  
Jaehyun wakes up the next morning with flowers growing in every space in his apartment. Vines with Climbing Hydrangeas wrapped around his bed frame, rows of Sweet Pea and Camellias lining his windowsills. Even his bathroom mirror was lined with Carnations and  Verbena growing out of the holder that carried his toothbrush. 

  
  
They all seemed to come alive, bending towards him and echoing Seokmin’s whisper of  _ I love you, too. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Mornings are shared for caresses of skin, for nosing into Seokmin’s hair, for listening to the rain. 

And  there are a dozen or more things that Jaehyun thinks could summarize up his life well, but—

“What’s it called?” Seokmin asks, his voice a drawl of sleepiness still. Jaehyun has traded his dress shirt and tie with the embroidered Almond Blossom flower for a worn t-shirt, which Seokmin is currently rubbing his face against. He picks up his cheek and rests his chin on Jaehyun’s stomach and knits his hands in front of his face. The engagement ring sits pretty in white gold on Seokmin’s finger.

Jaehyun glances at the Almond Blossom flowers engraved around the ring, and smiles. 

“What’s what called?” Jaehyun asks quietly, thumbing his thumb over Seokmin’s ring. It makes Seokmin laugh, and it mingles with the sound of rain against the window of Jaehyun’s apartment bedroom.

“The smell after it rains.”

  
  
Jaehyun’s smile shifts to something fonder at this, cradling Seokmin’s face with one hand. “ Petrichor, they call it,” and then adds, “It’s my favorite.”

  
  
“Is it?” Seokmin asks, leaning his cheek into Jaehyun’s touch. When he nods, Seokmin hums and drums his fingers against Jaehyun’s stomach. He slides carefully out of Jaehyun’s grasp and out of the bed, bare feet hitting the wood floor. He pads to the window, pushing it open and letting the rain pour. An instant later it trails off, becoming less and less until the only sound is the runoff in the gutter.

“Petrichor,” Seokmin says, still glancing out the window. He turns to look over his shoulder at Jaehyun, who reaches an arm out. He climbs back into bed eagerly, crawling up to kiss Jaehyun. He slots their lips together, and Jaehyun can practically taste the mild sweetness of Almond Blossom. He pulls away too soon, but what he says makes it all worth it for Jaehyun.

  
  
“It’s my favorite now, too.”

And so Jaehyun lays there with Seokmin in his arms, with the flowers in vines reaching up and around his bed frame, and he revels in the scent of petrichor.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to Any for beta'ing this, especially so last minute. I owe you one!
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated ♡   
[Fic Twitter](https://twitter.com/pinkwinwin)   
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